I am finally starting on a larger project for myself.
Here are some teaser images:

Splash image for the website and it may eventually become a button to buy.

This is a rough sketch that I did one afternoon without thinking about it. It became the basis for the characters and mood.

Page 01 rough sketch.

Page one, partial completed image.

SO, I just got my copy today.

You can see the whole book here:
Part 01
Part 02

I have been busy these days. Between work and fixing our house (pictures to come) I have had little time to put into personal projects. There are some new things in the works, no doubt.

Below are some sketchbook pages that I did not feel like scanning, photos will have to do.
Enjoy.
-D

“If I had to draw it; it would be a rectangle colored silver.”
-Tina on a Starbucks drink on the drive back from San Antonio: Cinnamon Dolce Latte.

New thing, trying it out.
Enjoy!!

Upift Universe is the current challenge given by the CGSociety. It is inspired by the Uplift Universe book series by David Brin. The challenge calls for you (the artist) to render a scene or movie clip that shows aliens and humans interacting.

I will not be entering the challenge as I do not have the free time right now, I will be doing SOMETHING as it does inspire creativity.

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-David

A long time ago I did about one hundred pages of storyboards for a concept of mine, for my college thesis. It was okay. Now, two years later I feel like the concept was good and the execution was mediocre. This is a page of recent doodles.

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These are three pages of a fanfic LOST comic (I know, I know… total nerd…).

The main character is a Dharma scientist who, moments before The Purge was able to find a way to change the Valenzetti Equation. The purge happens and he has to get to the radio tower and broadcast the change. His flashbacks are to his arrival on the island and vision-like experiences involving Richard Alpert and his vague calmly delivered, “I will have to kill you”.

In the end, the scientist is confronted by Alpert and shot because he would not give him the changed documents. The documents in the briefcase are blank, the scientist reveals that he never wrote the information down due to his fear of this encounter. The doctor dies, swearing that Alpert will die with the rest of the world…

Tonight Tina and I celebrated Earth Hour. We turned off all of our lights, unplugged our computers and sat down to dinner and a TV show on my laptop. At some point I was asked for a glass of water with a splash of lemon juice. I suddenly became very aware of just how dark the world was, when I had removed the option of voluntary light.

I felt around in the kitchen for a glass, and filled it up with water; I found the refrigerator and opened the door. I was suddenly immersed in a bright white light from inside. “Wow. Light.” I said from the kitchen.

“You have no right to complain, this was your idea.” Tina reminded me.

Below is an illustration representing my feelings:

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Thanks.
-David

P.s.

An update with color will happen…soon.

Heavy Reading

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-David

Corn Oil: The Ethanol Solution

This illustration will be published in the upcoming issue of Dirt Rag Magazine.

Enjoy.

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 David steps onto elevator and nods at business woman. She smiles back. The elevator stops at another floor.

“Weird,” The woman says, “It never picks people up on it’s way down in the mornings.”

Slick business man enters elevator, pretends not to notice anyone.
Elevator stops again, on twelve. A workman enters, carrying large canvas bags, the kind used to move money, with locks.

“Is that money in there?” The business man asks.
“Oh no.” The workman replies.
“‘Bout to say, my car is parked right out front.”
“You don’t want what’s in these bags.”
“What do you got, a bomb in there?”
“Ain’t nothin’ in these bags but time.”

-Awkward silence for the next eight floors.-

End.

I am not quite sure where this concept came from, maybe Schrodinger’s Cat theory? Anyway, I feel like if I post these concepts or ides up I will feel more obligated to pursue them in the future. This is really going nowhere.

“The power to believe will always be in the hands of the believers.”

When at first I was a young man I heard an older man say from the darkness of the hospital room, “The box is merely an illusion, a reflection, a dream.” I watched it for days. The man, I heard, died a few days after our conversation. My mother always told me things like that.

The box sat, as it sits now, idol and judgmental.

As I grew up (I say that I grew up around the box, like a tree around a barbed-wire fence. The allusion is not far from the truth.) I always watched it out of the corner of my eye. Defiantly, I would believe it to be different, odd or strangely eloquent at any given time; it would change in space and time without ever seeming different.

My family didn’t talk about it. They never trusted it, never wanted to be a part of it. They always told me things like that.

When I was eight years old I had a friend named —. He was blind in his left eye from a birth defect. All of the stories we made up were about a boy finding an eye to use as his own. We often talked about making one out of marbles and string and rubber bands. I showed him the box one day. He said he didn’t like it, like it was not supposed to be there. We didn’t hang out much after that, I found out some years later that his father had died in a car accident; one of his eyes was transplanted into —. He now has one green eye, one blue.

I left the box at home when I went off to college, up North. I remember having dreams about it, my girlfriends would always ask what I was dreaming about, it must have been intense. I would always say, “You, babe.” The dreams were always about ice and fire and darkness. They were about watching the world move from inside out, like being on the other side of the mirror.

Thanks.

I have not been posting lately.

Between work and freelance jobs, I have had no time to do personal work. Not like the real freelance days (cleverly and creatively called B.T. or Before Tocquigny.) I used to have time in between the work to doodle and sketch and draw. I used to have time to illustrate an ‘Illustration Friday’ assignment on Friday. Now I have an office to go to, and while I get to illustrate for them, I get the feeling that illustrating inane concepts removed from our typical clients would be frowned upon. I like this job, I do not want to be frowned upon.

I have spent some time writing and concept-ing some stories that have been swirling around in my brains for a few… years. Last night I had a new idea, and am trying to run with it. I only have five lines, are you ready for this?

-David

Who doesn’t love ZOMBIES!!?
This is a sketchbook piece, digital color, for inspiration; a friend is shooting a ZOMBIE!! themed photo and needed a comp. I had to inspire myself for the FEAR.

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Enjoy.
I know I did.

—EDIT: Also being used for Illustration Friday 01.18.07 IF: Plain—
These are a little generic, plain but interesting.
…more specifically Thursday evening and Friday:

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The Goliath Opens

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This was done way back in college, for my graduation Thesis. I did a whole book of storyboards and selected a few to colorize. The technique is not as nice as what I use now; it was all pen and ink, then I scanned it to color it. It’s about a year and-a-half old.

OPEN: The illustrated scene depicts the moments when SAFFRON (the main character of the story, a Gorgon daughter) was able to bring down the Goliath, a giant machine protecting the Waiting room and House of Athena. Upon defeating it, SAFFRON opens the belly of the machine to find the ‘Conductor’.

Thanks.
-David

I am looking out the window from the 17th (16th really, because there is no 13th) floor of my building.  They have a heavily-trafficked bridge shut down today to dedicate it to Anne Richards.  It will never stop amazing (amusing) me that common curtsies go right out the window when the slightest bit of traffic builds up.  I have watched probably seven near ‘accidents’ happen in the three minutes I was looking out the window.  I just heard a horn as I am writing this.

I just don’t understand why people can’t just play nice.

Stop if it looks like your lane isnt moving, so that you do not block the intersection.  Be mindful of pedestrians, and for God’s sake, someone use a blinker.  I usually let someone over if they have a blinker.  Nothing enrages me more than someone cutting me off without a blinker.  I am MORE okay with someone cutting me off with a blinker on than off.

Be kind.

Please?
-David

There is something precarious about memories on days like these.
It’s just slightly cloudy, a hint of winter lingers just beyond the visible spectrum of our sight and senses.

I walked into the coffee shop just before going up to my cubicle; whenever I freelance at an office I like to indulge in White Chocolate Mochas, the shop had begun its ‘fall line’ of spiced coffees and seasonally dressed plush animals. I don’t know what it is about this time of year that I enjoy so much. It’s not the holidays; I am not a big party person on any occasion. Halloween is okay, but I never seem to get into it like others do; than again, at my age the most we can do is dress up and go down town to get wildly drunk and possibly make out with someone you don’t know.

But still, have you ever had a memory that you can’t remember? One of those feeling memories that are usually inspired by smell? It’s one of those full body memories, where you can close your eyes and literally be somewhere else… anywhere else… but you can’t pinpoint a time or place or memory.

That’s today for me. Some wicked memory that is lingering from who-knows-how long-ago.

Wish me luck.
-David